


Week 2: Pavo / Peacock

by DramioneLDWS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 12,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneLDWS/pseuds/DramioneLDWS
Summary: Each chapter is an individual drabble written by a single participant.Please mind the tags/triggers at the top of each entry.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 187
Kudos: 69
Collections: Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing - Round 2





	1. Accidental Peacock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Accidental Peacock  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 490  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [JCOBryan1990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCOBryan1990/pseuds/JCOBryan1990)

4TH PLACE  


Hermione walked into the solarium expecting to see her husband and son. What she wasn’t expecting was her two-year-old sitting on the floor ‘playing’ with one of the beautiful white peacocks that roamed the Manor grounds. 

Kneeling next to the two Hermione smiled at her son then glared a second to the peacock, who seemed offended at the glare. “Don’t give me that attitude, not after the way your lot treat me when I’m walking the grounds. I know Lucius trained your family to attack me at every chance, he told me so. He’s just lucky I never told Draco.” 

At that declaration, the peacock began honking as if he was outraged by the comment. 

“Daddy peacock.” Scorpius giggled out. 

Hermione laughed, “No, baby, this is one of your Papa’s peacocks. We should let him back out so we can find your Daddy. We have a special surprise for him today.” Rubbing her lower abdomen, she went to stand only to watch the petulant peacock rise to his feet, honking with his tail feathers expanding wide, showing the true beauty of the animal, as he made his way closer to Hermione. This action forcing her to look the bloody bird in the eyes. Eyes that were the same as Draco’s. 

Gasping, her hand covering her mouth, she inquired, “Draco? How in the world?” 

The peacock actually seemed to sigh in relief as his head tipped toward Scorpius, who was walking to the back of the bird, pulling on the tail feathers, causing a wide eyed peacock to turn on the child honking his disapproval of the child’s actions. 

“Draco, stop he’s just a toddler.” Hermione reprimanded. 

The bird looked at her and huffed. She just rolled her eyes, plopping down on the floor, “I know this is bad, but he did magic, that’s exciting.” 

‘Can peacocks smirk?’ she thought as she looked to her husband. 

The clicking of heels and heavier footsteps echoed over the Manor floor as Hermione and the peacock looked to the door just as Lucius and Narcissa entered the room. Narcissa looked to see her daughter in law and grandson on the floor with one of the Manor’s peacocks between them. 

“Ms. Granger.” Lucius drawled. 

“Malfoy!” He was quickly corrected by Hermione, Narcissa, and the piercing honking peacock, that began biting at his ankle. 

“What in the bloody—” Lucius stopped as the animal continued. 

“Draco, stop!” Hermione called out as Draco continued to back his father out of the room, while ‘yelling’ at his father. 

“Did you say Draco?” Narcissa asked. 

Beaming with just a bit of pride, Hermione said, “Scorp did his first bout of accidental magic.” 

“Oh my, while that is exciting, we should really turn him back.” Narcissa said.  
“Give it a minute, Draco just found out Lucius trained the peacocks to attack me on the grounds.” Hermione thought she could hold off on the baby announcement this was much more exciting.


	2. Achilles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Achilles  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [crochetaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway)

“Pavo? You can’t be serious, Draco.” Hermione set her teacup down with a sharp clink. There was no way that Draco was offering up that name for any sort of serious contemplation.

“What? It’s a constellation; it fits the theme,” he insisted.

“The Black family theme, what about the Malfoy family theme? Or the Granger family theme for that matter,” Hermione replied. “I vote for Claudius. That hits both Malfoy and Granger.”

“Claudius? Claudius?!” Draco sat back, looking stunned. “What an ugly name.”

“What’s ugly about Claudius? It’s classic! Both Roman and Shakespearean.”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is,” Draco insisted. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward. “You aren’t seriously suggesting it, are you? I’ll add it to the list, but I might have to use a veto.”

“You are running preciously low on your vetos,” Hermione reminded him. “Also, about Pavo… I refuse to name anything after a bloody bird.”

“Fine, Pavo’s off the list, but then so is Claudius,” Draco muttered. He crossed both names off the shortlist in front of them. “There aren’t any other names on this list, Granger.”

“Well, maybe you need to just give in to what I like then?” She gave him a coy smile.

“No, I’ve already said no to bloody Claudius. I’ll go back to the star map.” He sighed heavily.

Hermione took a sip of tea. “I’m not sure I’m going to go for any star name at all.”

“And what is wrong with star names?” Draco glared at her.

“They’re a bit overdone, aren’t they?” She knew she was riling him up.

“Overdone? They are not overdone, Granger!”

“Well, all the good ones are taken.”

“There are literally billions of stars out there!”

Hermione scoffed. “Oh, right like we’re going to use HD 181433 as the name. There may be billions of stars, but most of them don’t have pretty Latin names.”

“So you admit, I have a pretty name.” Draco grinned at her in triumph.

“I’ve already ruled out using Draco.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think he deserves his own name?”

“Yes, of course, and besides, hearing you screech for Draco would get bloody confusing after a while.”

“I do not screech!” Draco’s grin deepened into a laugh. “Well, not much anyway,” she said with a sniff.

“Well, we could always use Sirius then,” Draco suggested.

“We can’t for loads of reasons, number one being it’s too on the nose,” Hermione said. Their crup puppy jumped up onto the sofa with Hermione, and she gave him a scratch behind the ears. “We’d scar Harry for life if we used his godfather’s name.”

Draco shook his head. “Achilles, it’s both Roman and Shakespearean, and I have a feeling this little guy will always be nipping at our heels.”

“I like it,” she turned to the crup who was panting up at her. “What do you think, Achilles? Is that your name?”

Achilles yipped his acceptance and jumped up to lick Hermione’s face.


	3. All Seeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: All Seeing  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [MidnightValkyrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightValkyrie/pseuds/MidnightValkyrie)

From her perch in the tree, Hermione watched the peacocks as the male displayed his tail feathers in a shimmying dance for the nearby females. A freshly cut apple slice appeared in her vision, snapping her out of her musings.

“Thank you.” She ate and continued to watch the enormous fan of feathers shaking and fluttering as her lover cut slices of the fruit for both of them.

“I can always kidnap the birds for a few days, darling.” Humor lilted his voice.

“I just don’t see why your mother wants them present at the ceremony.”

“Malfoy tradition.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course it was. “As long as she doesn’t want them to pull me in a chariot or some such nonsense.” She blinked as a thought occurred to her. “Hasn’t your entire family been sorted into Slytherin?”

“As far as records show, mostly. There’s been the odd Ravenclaw and the one Hufflepuff nobody ever talks about. Why?”

The idea of a Malfoy Hufflepuff curved her lips into a smirk. “I just think it entertaining seeing as, according to mythology, peacocks were kept in palaces and temples in India to fight off evil snakes.”

“Hilarious. Mother will be miffed that I spoiled this, but since you’ve brought up myths I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

She turned her eyes from the show to trail over his fine, aristocratic features. She nodded for him to continue as she ate the next piece of apple right from his fingers.

“Since you brought up mythology, you know how the peacock supposedly gained the eyes on its tail feathers, yes?”

“Hera wished to honor the hundred-eyed Argus after he was murdered by Hermes while he was guarding Io for her.” She gently took another piece of proffered fruit from him, interest piqued.

“Succinct, but correct as always. Argus made a good watchman because he was often considered all-seeing...” He watched as the pieces rapidly snapped into place, slowly cutting another chunk and eating it off the tip of the blade.

“Narcissa uses the peacocks as spies…” Her voice was tinged in awe.

Clever. Now that she thought about it, the birds had been present in some capacity or other at every gathering at the estate, even if they were merely roosted in a tree and not strutting about with their feathers fanned. The showy birds had long been viewed as a sign of shallow pretentiousness. How Slytherin of the family to use that to their advantage.

Gray eyes gleamed. “Correct again. Malfoy brides are only supposed to be told the day of the ceremony, right before walking down the aisle, so at least try to be surprised when she tells you.”

She leaned over, kissing the glistening juice from his lips. Her heart was warmed that he’d share such a secret with her despite their wedding being months away. “No wonder you used to chase the peacocks away.”

His ensuing laughter warmed her just the same as his secret sharing had.


	4. Birdnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Birdnapped  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [wish123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wish123/pseuds/wish123)

3RD PLACE  


“Harry Potter, you cannot be serious!”

Harry shrunk slightly in front of Hermione. “I’m sorry. You were specially requested and you had capacity.” 

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes towards him. “This is not the first _special_ request. Is there no longer a vetting process upon intake?”

“As the one who assigns cases, I’m insulted—”

“ _First_ , there was the report that someone had trespassed on their grounds to play Quidditch—”

“He wasn’t technically the one that reported the first case.”

“Then, there was the family heirloom that went missing, which turned into him ‘overlooking’ it in the family vault—“

“Their lineage is ancient. You know if they claim an heirloom goes missing it's going to be considered of historical importance.” 

“And now you’re telling me—“

Harry rubbed his hand against his forehead. “Hermione…”

“—I’ve been summoned to Malfoy Manor to investigate the disappearance of…” Hermione glanced down at the file, her expression incredulous when she looked up.

“Pavo, the peacock.”

“White peacocks are a rare breed…”

Hermione slammed the file against Harry’s desk. 

“Get me out of it!” 

She arrived the next morning at Malfoy Manor. Draco greeted her with some comment about them meeting once again. The smile on his face felt more condescending than his trademark smirk. 

She marched passed as he gestured towards the south side of the grounds. By now, they had the drill down. Draco recounted the details and she took notes.

Hermione raised an eyebrow when he suggested his mother felt a breach in the Manor wards.

_‘The centuries-old wards—over a bloody peacock…’_

“And there’s nothing else?” 

“Nope.” The pop in his response hit her like the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

She narrowed her eyes at him and put away her notepad. Drawing her wand, she cast, “Appare Vertigium.” 

Draco’s face paled and his eyes widened in alarm. 

“You know, now that I think of it—“

She held up her hand to silence him and watched the scene play out before her. The gold dust revealed Draco himself transfiguring and moving the damn peacock. 

Hermione could feel her fingernails digging into her skin as she tightened the grip on her wand. She threw a fiery glare in his direction and lifted it towards him. 

“Wait! Have dinner with me!” 

She stood flabbergasted as Draco rapidly explained how his father wouldn’t stop complaining long enough for him to ask the first time she came over. Therefore, he kept coming up with new reports with no subsequent luck. 

Her mind was reeling as she scraped for clues. He had made attempts at conversation when her official business concluded. Nothing that seemed glaringly obvious, however, as she looked up at him, she had to admit that he was annoyingly easy on the eyes.

“Alright, I’ll agree to dinner. This evening.”

She cast a spell to bind his wrists. 

“What—”

Hermione smirked. “We have a date but you still filed a false report. Surely, your parents will bail you out in time.”


	5. Birdwatching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Birdwatching  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Misdemeanor1331](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misdemeanor1331/pseuds/Misdemeanor1331)

“Your father hates me.” 

After two years, Hermione knew Draco well enough to recognize the sound of sincere concern. She leaned back from the sudsy sink and peered around him. Her parents sat at the dining table, wine glasses far too close to empty, wearing similarly pinched expressions.

“Yes, he does.” 

“And your mother, she—”

“She hates you, too,” Hermione confirmed. No use in denying it. 

“ _Shite_. I told you this wasn’t going to work.” 

She handed him a dinner plate to rinse and kept her reply mild. “It’s only our first night.”

“And this _no magic_ rule... Are you sure I can’t...” Draco raised his left hand and mimicked a wave.

“Don’t you _dare_.” 

Hermione had restored Wendell and Monica back to Hugh and Helen after the war, but trust was harder to repair than memories. Six years had passed, and still they seemed uncertain around her. Like she was a stranger they feared, not the daughter they loved. 

“I’m never going to win them over.” 

“You will,” she said, more confident than she felt. “You have to get to know one another. Connection through common interest.” She nudged her hip into his, prompting a grin. “It worked for us.” 

Later that evening, they shared another bottle of shiraz in the rear garden. An unfamiliar sky spread like a blanket above them, the Australian night clear and mild. Draco cleared his throat, testing the silence. 

“Do you hunt or fish, Hugh?” 

Her father answered with a flat, “No,” and Hermione hid her grimace with her wine glass. 

“Do you garden, Helen?” Her mother looked at Draco, expression blank. To Hermione’s horror, Draco took this as a positive sign. He continued: “My mother prefers plants to people most days. I’m sure she would send you some cuttings.”

“I don’t garden.” 

Hermione curled her fingers around the chair’s arm to keep from cringing. He was trying so hard. 

Draco leaned forward for a final attempt. “Do you have any hobbies?” 

Her parents exchanged a look. “We birdwatch.” 

“Birdwatch,” Draco repeated, savoring the hard-earned morsel. “My family has peacocks. They wander the grounds. Does Australia have them, too?” 

Another shared look. “Yes,” Hugh said, “but we’ve never seen one.” 

“Are you sure?” A smile played across Draco’s lips.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen said with a dismissive scoff. “They’re not hard to miss.” 

“They are if you don’t know where to look.” He pointed out at the sky. “I think I see one just there.” 

“I don’t see—”

“Helen!” Hugh’s chair scraped against the deck as he stood, eyes wide. 

A thousand lights shimmered over the constellation Pavo, and a peacock appeared in the night sky. Its fanned tail spread glitter across the heavens, one-hundred luminous feathers waving in a celestial breeze. 

Draco sheathed his wand and took her hand. Surprised shouts and the tinkle of broken glass sounded from rear gardens across the city of Melbourne, but Hermione’s parents stood silent and still. Dazzled by the magic and, for now, unafraid.


	6. Called Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Called Out  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 494  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [LumosLyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra)

“Did I tell you about that one time a peacock saved my life?” Blaise swirls amber liquid around his glass as a too-wide smirk slides across his lips. I’ve seen that shite-eating grin before and hope Granger is sober enough to realize how completely full of Bicorn dung our friend is. 

Lavender doesn’t even bother to move from where her head is reclined against the sofa and her feet are settled in Vince’s lap and Pansy just runs a hand down her face and stands up to presumably fetch another bottle from the cellar or sneak off to wherever Ginevra and Theo passed out after their impressive display of tonsil-quidditch before Granger threw them out of our sitting room and ordered them to find a suite somewhere in the Manor before she called Auror Potter to come charge them with gross indecency. 

Have I mentioned how much I love my wife? 

Granger grins just as wide as Blaise, leaning forward in her chair, the glass of shiraz balanced in her fingers as she stares him down with challenge in her gaze. “Liar.” 

Merlin knows we’ve all been friends long enough, she knows everyone’s tells by now. Unfortunately, I don’t think she knows that Blaise’s get a bit muddled when he gets drunk and what usually means he’s spinning faerie stories somehow turns into absolute fates-be-damned truth. 

“Wizard’s honor,” he swears and I try to hide my surprise because this one might actually be true. 

My wife looks at me and I know she knows I’ve slipped just along the edge of Occlumency before she turns her attention back to our friend. “Alright, spill.”

Blaise takes a long pull from whatever obscure muggle liquor he’s obsessed with this month and wiggles his eyebrows at my wife in that suggestive way I ignore when I’ve had one-too-many but would hex him for were we sober. “Happened when lover-boy over there—” he tilts his head toward me and I can’t help but groan, “—turned twenty.”

I hear Vince snicker and that can only mean one thing. 

“No. No, no no.” I’m up from my chair before I know what I’m doing and I’ve got my wand pointed at Blaise. “Granger does not need to hear that story. You hear me, Zabini?” 

That was the wrong fucking thing to say because now my wife is on her feet, the wine splashing out of her glass and on to the priceless antique carpet, when she grabs my wand out of my hand and pockets it into one of those bottomless pockets she charms into all of her trousers that I abhor because I don’t know how she finds anything in that chaos. 

She holds up her glass and smiles at me, something sweet and sinister and I swallow all of the saliva that has gathered in my mouth because I’m fucked. 

“Draco, go make sure Parks hasn’t passed out in the pool again. Zabini has a story to tell.”


	7. Chosen Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Chosen Family  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [anne_ammons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons)

ADMIN CHOICE  


Draco looked up at the sky, feeling rather unsettled. The Southern sky was not familiar to him at all. He knew the Northern sky, having grown up not only seeing his namesake, but also so many of his Black family ancestors. He learned the skies as he learned their stories: names like Arcturus, Cygnus, Pollux, even Regulus and Sirius, family, stars and constellations, alike.

He had learned them all at his mother’s knee, as he learned who he was and who she wanted him to be. 

My, how things had changed.

It was oddly appropriate that he was now here looking up at stars that he had never seen before and had no connection with.

He hadn’t meant to leave things between them so unsettled. In the aftermath, Hermione was anxious to find her parents and restore their memories.

But, he wasn’t ready. He still had to figure out things with his mother, because she was the only family he had left. Instead, Draco quickly learned _that_ family came with a price he was no longer willing to pay; definitely not to a woman who after everything still didn’t understand that her side had lost the war. 

His mother didn’t know what he could possibly see in a Mudblood, and that’s when he realized that their ideas of family were too different and might remain so.

By then, Hermione had left, heading halfway around the world by herself because he had been too focused on trying to fix things that were best left alone.

“You’re an idiot.” Harry said when Draco showed up on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place looking like a lost puppy. 

Harry handed him a piece of paper with an address on it. “Don’t fuck this up.”

He worried that he already had. 

Draco looked back down at the star guide in his hands — purchased from a muggle bookshop, no less — and then back up, trying to find the Southern birds: Pavo, Grus, and Tucana.

He had no ancestors by those names, knew no stories. Each was new and different, unknown; much like the path ahead of him.

Perhaps not entirely unknown… He thought of the peacocks that had once roamed the grounds of the manor, strutting their stuff trying to impress the peahens. It seemed like grandstanding as they spread their tails and fought for dominance, but for the peacocks, picking a mate was serious business.

Hermione had accused him of grandstanding before, but he’d won her heart then and he’d do it all over, if needed. 

He looked up again, focused on trying to find Pavo. It was such a small constellation. No matter, he’d learn them all, one at a time. 

He’d be here as long as Hermione would let him. Hell, he planned to stay, even if she wouldn’t see him, on the off chance that if she needed him, he’d be here — because if nothing else, one thing was crystal clear to him, he knew he needed her. She was his family.


	8. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collision  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [MykEsprit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit)

1ST PLACE  


“Five minutes,” Audrey clipped through his earpiece.

Draco set his drink on the bartop, tossed a few dollars down, and padded onto the sand. A crowd hustled along the beach, scantily clad bodies in near-collision. Too many variables; too many unknowns. It set his teeth on edge.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself flipping a switch at the back of his skull. It was always easier that way—as if there was some vestigial muscle inside his cranium, making it easier to initialise PAVO.

His vision flickered. Everything took on a computer-blue hue. Then, PAVO fired up, giving him…

Everything.

Peripheral Audio-Visual Onlay was Lucius Malfoy’s brainchild. _His favorite child_ , Draco often thought. Lucius even named it after a constellation, as he would his own progeny. 

The neural implant gave its wearer as many “eyes” as there were on its namesake’s tail—and then some. All one had to do was look at a device—a phone in someone’s hand, a laptop on a café table, a computer through an office window—and PAVO granted them remote access. The tech was standard issue for MI6 field agents.

Draco matched the crowd’s pace, shoulders easing as information populated his field of vision. Noticing a traffic camera on the adjacent street, he tapped in, searching the passing vehicles— 

_Thwap!_ A body slammed into him. Draco stumbled back, clutching his hidden firearm.

“Oh my God!” A woman gasped. Flustered fingertips patted his torso. “Are you okay?”

Draco shook his head. Like an Etch A Sketch, PAVO dissolved from his vision, revealing a familiar profusion of curls under a straw hat. “Granger?”

The woman stopped fussing with his shirt and glanced up. Honey-flecked eyes widened. “Malfoy!”

Despite his urgency, the corners of his lips pulled up.

She returned his smile. Suddenly, he was thrown back a decade—when life was simple, responsibilities were nil, and the highlight of each week was getting to sit across the chemistry bench from Hermione Granger. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her glance fell to her fingertips, still resting on his torso. She jumped back, cheeks pink. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he caught himself saying. He wanted to ask her why she was in Miami. Had the urge not only to know what she had been up to since Uni but to watch her talk in that animated way he remembered. 

But the mission intruded. “Ninety seconds ‘til the drop,” Audrey warned.

“I have to go.” His feet—heavy as they were—were already carrying him away. “We’ll run into each other again.” A promise to himself. As soon as this mission was done, he would track her down. With PAVO, it would be easy...

For a moment, Hermione’s smile faltered. “Sure,” she said, nodding once. “Goodbye, Malfoy.”

* * *

She jumped into an unmarked van, shutting the door quickly.

Her handler sat at a bay of monitors. The CIA’s seal was reflected on his horn-rimmed glasses. “Were you made?”

“No,” Hermione said. The tracker she had planted on Draco was blinking on a screen. “He didn’t see me coming.”


	9. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Flight  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 492  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [StoneAndRoses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneAndRoses/pseuds/StoneAndRoses)

Draco stood dumbstruck at the ledge of the Astronomy Tower. Instead of enjoying a quiet night in late June he was instead fixated on figuring out whether he had ever seen Hermione Granger fly. He had been so focused on besting Potter in first year, he now could not remember if she ever got higher than a foot off the ground. During Quidditch she was always watching, never participating, cheering on her imbecilic friends. Surely the witch didn’t own a broom. And it’s doubtful Snape has taught her his _true_ flight. 

But now, clear as his constellation shines in the sky, he watches her fly away from Hogwarts castle as the sun sets over the lake. She looks regal on the dark thestral. The Gryffindor's great mane flows behind her as she leans across the beast’s neck, trying to push it forward, faster. She’s clearly uncomfortable, body rigid and unforgiving, taut with tension that keeps her clutching to her steed. He notices now that she’s following a group, probably pursuing Potter into some hairbrained plan that they would inexorably be praised for by Dumbledore. 

He turns back to catch one more glimpse of the muggleborn witch who bests him and his friends at everything. The witch that he should hate, but can’t help but think of as a goddess at this moment in time. Not that the comparison hasn’t come to mind before. But now, she is resplendent, gliding through the air, off to save the day... again. 

Not that she will get the recognition she deserves, he thinks petulantly. Not nearly to the level he gives her.

What nobody else sees is that Granger is Hera, flying through the sky with her flock of peacocks, chasing down a rogue Zues, attempting to keep him in line. Although she is compassionate, not to mention a great beauty, Zeus continually takes advantage of her and her love for him. Ignoring the greatness that is in front of him.

Though Hera does not stand idly by. Her vengeance and jealousy are _literally_ legend fodder. When crossed, she does whatever within her power to scorn her husband as well as any involved parties. Even the king of the gods has the sense to be scared of his wife. But Draco isn’t convinced that Potter or Weaslby have learned that particular lesson yet. He loves watching the sparks wind through her curls when something sets her off.

If not for his father, _Draco_ could be the one to anoint her throne appropriately. Provide the majestic flock to pull her chariot and never let his eyes or devotion stray. _He_ could be her King. 

Maybe one day the goddess he now sees as Granger might bless him. Maybe one day Granger will share her ripe fruit with him, allow him to worship her at her altar. Maybe one day he won’t be on the wrong side of her wrath.


	10. Garden Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Garden Party  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 456  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Vesperswan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperswan/pseuds/Vesperswan)

“What am I supposed to do with these infernal peacocks, Draco? I am so tired of them strutting around when we have garden parties. All they do is squawk at the guests and poop on the walkways.” Hermione was at the end of her rope.

“I know, we all hate them. Mother hates them more than you and I combined. But Father had it written in his will that we can’t get rid of them. We can only not replace them as they die. And he placed some charm on them so we can’t Avada them either,” Draco sighed, dragging his hands through his hair.

“Pansy stepped right in a steaming pile of poop—and almost fell into another. Can you imagine how many she would have killed if it weren’t for a stupid charm. She was furious, which was slightly funny. But never tell her I said that. She would Avada me before I knew what hit me.” Hermione was starting to feel a little less irate.

“Next time we host a party, I'll set up wards to keep them out. I don’t know how long they will hold, but it’s worth a try. Father loved those damn things so much he let them have free reign. They think they are human or even better than human.”

“Maybe we can have the kids play dodgeball with them at the next birthday party. I know they aren’t kids anymore, but those peacocks have terrorized them their entire lives as well. Might be fun to watch—especially since they won’t die. Can we neuter them at least, so we don’t have even more of them?” Hermione was done with those things.

“Won’t hurt to try. It'll work or it won’t. I’ll talk to Mother tomorrow and see what we can try. Relax and get some rest. Big day tomorrow, remember. Scorpius is getting married.” Kissing the top of her head Draco heard her let out a long breath.

“Under Pavo of course. Those peacocks always get their way. Then the rest of the kids head off to Hogwarts in a week. The house will be so empty,” Hermione sighed.

Two weeks later, Hermione found herself sitting in the garden taking in all the quiet. Off in the distance she heard the squawk of the peacocks. 

“Maybe the peacocks aren’t so bad. A little noise is comforting with all the kids gone for a while,” she mumbled to herself.

“Maybe you're on to something. I always hated the silence when Draco was off at school. I guess Lucius knew what he was doing after all,” Narcissa said as she came up behind Hermione.

The two witches sat quietly and listened to the peacocks for the better part of the afternoon.


	11. Hermetic Order of the Peacock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Hermetic Order of the Peacock  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Msmerlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msmerlin/pseuds/Msmerlin)

He was mad.

Absolutely delusional.

While not a true Black, perhaps the family tie meant he inherited some of the instability that seemed to plague them? Or maybe years of inbreeding finally caught up to the Malfoy’s?

Hermione turned the coin over in her palm, watching the engraved peacock glint in the low light of their office. “I’m sorry, I… did you… Malfoy, what—”

“It’s an invitation, Granger. I’m not asking for your bloody hand.” The blond snapped, seemingly growing more irritated by the second. He adjusted his cufflinks, not so much as lifting his gaze to her since he’d slid the coin across their adjoining desks.

“Yes, I gathered that… but I thought you’d said it was from the…uh...the—”

“The Hermetic Order of the Peacock.”

Yep. She’d heard right.

Her lips pressed together, and she looked back down to the coin, thumbnail catching on the reeding as she studied the engraved image, like it might provide some context to what the bloody hell Draco was actually saying. Because from where she sat, he sounded as if he was claiming some sort of allegiance to a bloody phasianidae.

Shifting in her chair, she pushed back from her desk, the squeaky wheels a painful reminder of the awkward silence that was stretching between them. “Right, right… the peacock.”

“Hermetic Order of the Peacock. Merlin’s cock, Granger, it is a bloody privilege to even be _considered_ for membership. Show a little class and do try to remember the proper name.” Malfoy clicked his tongue at her in a pretentious show of disapproval as he rose from his desk.

“Forgive me, but I guess I don’t understand what the Order is.” She set the coin down, the precious metal clicking loudly against the worn wood of her desk.

Malfoy scoffed, and had his back not been to her, she was certain it would have paired with an eyeroll. “Of course you don’t. Didn’t Weasel teach you _anything._ ” Plucking his dress robes from the coat rack, he shrugged into the bespoke set, making quick work of magically threading the buttons with a single gesture. “The Order is the most notable Wizarding secret society.”

She was tempted to point out how absolutely absurd it was for there to even be a Wizarding secret society considering the lengths that the Ministry went to for the Statue of Secrecy, but she thought better than to needle Malfoy right now. He was clearly already perturbed by her naivety to his peacock boys club.

“You know all those little laws that float across your desk? The proposals for amendments and new regulations? Those stem from The Order, Granger. They were the law before the Ministry was established” His fingertips brushed across the front of his robe, flicking away invisible specks imperfections. “And for some unknown reason they want you to join our ranks.”

She nodded, slowly absorbing the bits of pieces of information he was spoon feeding her. “Then why the hell did they want _you_?”


	12. In the Darkest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: In the Darkest Night  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [In_Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams)

Four days, sixteen hours, twenty-seven minutes. The length of time that had passed since Draco’s world had rent in two at his very feet, a jarring and tumultuous clamour, wherein all he could do was brace in an effort to remain standing. 

His father: Azkaban. His mother: dead. 

Narcissa had been caught up in the aftermath of the battle, a victim of several rogue Order vigilantes with a grudge to seek. She had faced her end with dignity and little fanfare.

And now Malfoy Manor—the only home he had ever known—was to be seized the next morning, its assets claimed for reparations. 

He sucked in a long, deep breath, lungs burning from the pressure closing in. His heart thudded against his ribs, seeking escape and his own bitter, premature demise. 

Deep within the grounds of Malfoy Manor, slumped on one of the polished wooden benches dotting the space, Draco sought solace in the stars blanketing the night sky above him; the only peace that remained. 

In the distance the peacocks cawed, settling for the night. 

One waddled nearer, a little graceless, and despite himself Draco watched it, a ghost of a smirk curling his lips. The birds had always provided him enjoyment, even when everything else in his life had slowly twisted into his own personal nightmare. Cold and unrelenting. 

As if sensing the melancholy that had overtaken his spirit, the bird made a meandering line for him, and Draco watched its approach with mild interest. 

Until it lifted one spindly claw, raking at the wrought iron leg of the bench. 

Draco watched, a frown deepening as the bird struggled against the bench until he realised it was attempting to climb. Snickering, he indulged the clumsy critter, reaching down to lift it up beside him. 

The bird released a satisfied huff and settled alongside him, nudging into his arm, a steady and reassuring presence. He grazed its soft white head with his fingers. 

It was only when the peacock peered up at him with warm, doleful brown eyes, that a breath caught in his throat. 

“This is you,” he whispered, holding the bird’s stare. His heart clenched in his chest before skipping into a rapid cadence. The hot sting of tears threatened at the backs of his eyes but he blinked them away as a wry smile tugged at his lips. “I should have known your animal form would have something to do with me.” 

He could have sworn the peacock rolled its eyes. 

And moments later, he watched as the bird shifted into a young woman, all riotous curls and a soft, sad smile. Hermione traced the line of his cheekbone, her fingers slipping back into his hair. 

“Was there ever any doubt?” 

Seeing the broken affection gazing back at him, Draco shook his head with a whispered, “No.” 

“I’m so sorry, Draco.” 

Her words hung between them in the stark silence until she leaned in, her lips seeking his. 

Just maybe, not all was truly lost.


	13. It’ll Be Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: It’ll Be Fine  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [iwasbotwp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbotwp/pseuds/iwasbotwp)

Hermione clutched the letter in her hand, trying to figure out how to break her news.

“Let me preface this by saying that when I did this, we’d barely begun dating. I wasn't sure anything would come of it.”

Draco's lips thinned and he crossed his arms.

“That came out wrong. I don't mean I expected our relationship to immediately fail," Hermione backtracked. _Although everyone else had_. “I meant, what I’m holding, it's...umm, was...sort of…wishful thinking.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

She just needed to rip the plaster off.

“I’ve been offered a position teaching Transfiguration.”

“That’s great news!" he said, missing her lack of enthusiasm. "I'd no idea McGonagall was looking. You can quit your awful Ministry job, have summers off—“

“Draco, wait. There’s more.” She held up her hand and brandished the letter, revealing the wax seal. 

“That’s not Hogwarts,” he said slowly. “Isn’t that in—”

“Australia.” The word hung in the air while a dull ringing rose in her ears and a sour taste filled her mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" he asked incredulously. "There's obviously been ongoing communication with them."

“I—” She stared down at the letter now hanging limply between her fingers, the words blurring. “I don’t know.”

Draco slumped in his seat on her sofa. "Are you going to accept it?”

Carelessly throwing the parchment onto her coffee table, she sat next to him. “I don’t have to take it. My job at the Ministry isn't _that bad_.”

He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling, creating an unbearable silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she whispered, picking at where the wool was pilling on her jumper. “I applied with the hope of being closer to my parents, you know. But it’s easy enough to get Portkeys. I mean, I do that now and it’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“No. _It won’t be fine_.” He shifted to face her, warm hands grabbing her cold clammy ones. “You need to take it.”

“I want to." Her voice cracked as she tried not to cry. "But now I don’t want to leave you.”

“What if you could have both?”

A spark of hope flared in her chest. "How?"

“I mean, you take this job and I’ll move there too. No reason I can’t. Unless I'm unwelcome?”

“What? No! I'd love that! But what about your company?”

"For necessary in-person meetings, there’s Portkeys. I heard they’re easy to get.” He winked and squeezed her hand.

"I'll be working long hours," she warned.

He shrugged. "I could always take up a hobby. Maybe learn the stars of the Southern Hemisphere."

“I bought books to research differences between what students learn there versus here." Hermione grinned at his good-natured snort. "You can borrow the Astronomy one. Did you know there’s a constellation called Pavo? It’s a peacock.”

“There's a peacock constellation over Australia? That settles it. It wouldn't be home without a peacock.” 

Leaning over, just before he kissed her, Draco added, "Or you.”


	14. Late For a Very Important Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Late For a Very Important Date  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [fandomfairytales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales)

She didn’t know what he was up to.

Standing there looking like… Well he looked like a damn peacock.

Who in their right mind does a fry up in a three-piece suit, hair perfectly coiffed? Draco-Fucking-Malfoy apparently.

She grabbed the nearest saucepan, brandishing it like a weapon; it glinted in the morning sunlight, splashing reflections across her kitchen like constellations.

What was he even _doing_ here? Why break into her flat? Raid her fridge… Cook her breakfast?

She hadn’t seen him since their eighth-year graduation ball, where they’d been forced as co-heads to share an awkward dance in front of the Ministry, her concerned friends and his stern-faced mother.

What in the ever-loving fuck was going on!? Circe help her, she was so confused.

She assumed he couldn’t hear her approach over the sound of frying bacon, a small mercy that allowed her to take a shot.

Unfortunately, she miscalculated his reflexes and milliseconds before she was able to brain him, he caught the pan and her eyes mid-swing.

“Pleasure to see you again Hermione.”

He grinned and all she could do was gawk at him (and not for his audacious behaviour).

His smile was blindingly beautiful and oh boy was she in trouble.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing here Draco!”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“NO! and you don’t have the right to be cryptic, you’re lucky I don’t have my wand!”

She swatted at him with her free hand. A mistake which meant being pulled tight against his chest despite her attempts to struggle free.

“Let. Me. Go!”

“First of all, that won’t be happening, _darling_ , in any sense of the word; second, how does the brightest witch of our age somehow overlook the fact that she missed the marriage law deadline and as such has been assigned an auror to ensure she shows up to her mandated courthouse nuptials?”

“I did what?”

“You missed the deadline to choose for yourself sweetheart, ‘miss perfect’ messed up...”

Her head swam and she was certain she was dreaming; or stuck in an alternate universe.

“What marriage law? What are you on about Malfoy?”

“You mean you actually don’t know?”

She shook her head and thankfully he seemed to believe her, his demeanour shifting from playful to concerned.

“I can’t believe no one told you… Hermione I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, explain!”

He threw up his hands defensively and guided her to take a seat.

“It’s been around for ages, to keep the population up… Four years after graduation, if you haven’t married, then the ministry plays matchmaker.”

She swooned in her seat.

“But why in his right mind would Harry send you to enforce it?”

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly

“He thought it best, all things considered, it was a favour.”

“I’m surprised he’d allow you to come here just to rub salt in my wounds.”

“You’re missing the point love… I’m here because who better than your future husband to ensure you show up on time.”


	15. Ophiophagy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Ophiophagy  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Kyonomiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyonomiko/pseuds/Kyonomiko)

Her screams are endless.

Draco hears them, echoing off his family’s walls and mouldings, bouncing around the high set ceilings, even after she’s gone silent. Her breath is shallow and her eyes unseeing as he stands with his fists clenched, leaned against the mantle above a great stone hearth.

His father catches his eye, gives him an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

‘Don’t’, the movement indicates. ‘Not now. Not you.’

Draco squeezes his eyes shut and tries to comply, but his aunt is cackling and screaming, and there is only silence from the dungeons. 

Shrugging off his mother’s hand, Draco pulls away from her and his father to face Bellatrix. 

The witch, noticing the look on Draco’s face, abandons Hermione’s broken body to meet his eye. “Oh ho, the little lordling has something to say? I knew you didn’t have the stones for His great work. Nothing but a trumped up little peacock, pretending at being a man.”

She glides forward and draws one hand down his cheek, nails digging in gently as she coos at him. “Or maybe you only want to play too. Point your wand at her, Draco. Feel the way the magic flows through you and makes her body bend and shake. It is divine. Tastes better than any sweetmeats. Feels better than any touch of flesh.”

“Bella-”

“Hush, Cissy. Let me turn your little peacock into a dragon,” she says, eyes never leaving Draco’s stoic gaze.

Her clawed hand trails down his neck, running the length of his collar and down the buttons of his shirt. 

“Did you know,” he asks, voice low, “the peacock is revered.” He quirks one side of his lips upward, the barest hint of a smile that is charming... disarming... Or so he’s been told. 

“Regal,” he says, fingertips tracing up her arm to clasp her hand near his waist. “Deserving.”

“Yes,” she hisses in agreement. “Royalty, Draco. We. Are. Royalty,” she punctuates. “Show that filthy mudblood her place.”

“Did you know,” he adds, leaning his head down toward her ear. He feels her tense with anticipation. How she does love inspiring cruelty in those around her. He can tell she is imagining the beautiful death he will bring in his wake, and Draco does not aim to disappoint.

“Know what, Nephew, dear?”

“In the wild, in cultures older than our own, the peacock eats the snake.”

She doesn’t have time to react before he shoves her away, using her own arm as leverage, and points his wand at her heart. “Avada Kedavra.”

Silence shrouds the room, and Draco falls to his knees, cradling Hermione Granger to his chest. He refuses to let anyone near, even as her friends escape the dungeons to claim her. 

“Let her go,” Harry Potter orders him, but Draco only shakes his head and pulls her closer, looking into her brown eyes as they slowly come back to focus. “I said let her go!”

“No,” Draco whispers to her, reverent. “Never again.”


	16. Pavo's Fabulous Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Pavo's Fabulous Day  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [KasmiAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasmiAnn/pseuds/KasmiAnn)

Pavo the peacock was having a fabulous day. Upon waking from a glorious slumber, he challenged the pride to a race to his favorite tree in the orchard and was rewarded with the first pick of the trees' new blooms for breakfast. A short rest was followed by mid-morning grooming; as the finest of all peacocks, it was vital that he kept his pristine white plumage in tip-top shape. Once he was satisfied, he found a quiet area to hone his mating dance. The hens wouldn’t be able to resist him this season, he was sure of it. 

As he was settling down amongst the pride for his afternoon nap, Pavo heard a faint noise coming from near the Manor. He perked up his head and listened intently. 

“Boys!” a voice called out.

_Master Draco!_

Master had come to visit! Pavo sprang to his feet and took off running, jumping into the air occasionally to fly a few yards. It had been ages since Master Draco had visited.

As he drew near the Manor, Pavo noticed that Master was not alone. He was standing in Mistress Narcissa’s rose garden with a _woman._

Pavo slowed his pace and walked towards the pair with his head held high, his plume trailing behind him. 

“Ah, here they are,” Master Draco said as the pride arrived. Master introduced the others as Pavo looked the girl up and down. She was clearly not of the same class as Master, what in her simple dress and unkempt hair. _Did she not know the proper way to groom her own plumage?_ Pavo thought to himself.

Upon arriving in their view, Pavo shook out his plume and let it open in grandeur. The girl gasped at his beauty, and Pavo strutted in a circle to let the sun catch every last crystal. 

Master grinned at him. “And this is Pavo, my first and best peacock.”

“You named your peacock “the peacock” in Latin?” The bushy-haired girl asked the Master, laughing. Pavo gave a chirp of indignation and ruffled his plume as he lunged at her. 

_The audacity! No one made fun of Pavo._

Just before he was to nip the girl, Master jumped in front of her and threw his arms wide. “Pavo! No!” Master yelled. 

Pavo was shocked. Master was protecting her! He forced his plume back down and squawked loudly.

“Merlin Draco! What is he doing?” the girl screeched, cowering.. 

Master Draco gathered the girl in his arms and Pavo watched as he kissed her.

Ah. So she was Master’s hen. 

The girl was approaching him now, under Masters guidance, with a handful of Pavo’s favorite seeds. “I’m sorry. Pavo is a beautiful name.”

Pavo stared at her indignantly for a moment before acquiescing. He bowed before her and took the offered seeds, nipping her finger in the process. 

“Ouch!” she cried. 

No one would insult Pavo on his fabulous day, not even the future Mistress. 

“Pavo!”


	17. Portraits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Portraits  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 494  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [LuxLouise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxLouise/pseuds/LuxLouise)

Moving into Malfoy Manor after they had married had been a big pill to swallow for Hermione. The memories from the war—while no longer fresh—were still there. It helped that Narcissa had extensively redecorated the entire grand home in the years following the war. The newlywed couple had the entire west wing of the manor to themselves—Lucius and Narcissa rarely coming to bother them; they had their own kitchen and House-elves who were freed and paid per Hermione’s request. They had few portraits in their wing, Draco having insisted that the most staunch blood-purists be put away in the attic with their roaming privileges revoked. The two mainly kept nice landscapes on the walls. The only exception was Pavo.

Pavo had been Lucius’ first, prize white peacock that he had raised and nurtured. Draco had hated the bird and thrown a quiet celebration when the beast had finally died. Lucius had commissioned a portrait and hung him in pride of place over the mantle in his office. Pavo, in his death, enjoyed stalking the manor through portraits. The infernal squawking could be heard no matter where they were at. The portraits of the departed members of the Malfoy family were constantly complaining about the bird to Lucius, begging him to destroy the portrait but their complaints fell on deaf ears. Hermione and Draco had been back from their honeymoon for three days when the bird decided he hated her.

“Draco!” Hermione screeched, throwing the doors to their bedroom open and slamming them shut behind her. “You have to talk to your father about that bird. He chased me.”

Scoffing, he tossed the Daily Prophet he had been reading on the bed and sat up. “And how did he chase you? He’s a portrait, wife.”

“I know that, husband.” The snark in her voice unmistakable. “He followed me from your parents sitting room all the way back to our wing. He kept squawking at me and I swear, if he really wanted too, he would come out of that portrait.”

He pulled her onto the bed next to him when she finally made her way closer. Rolling until he was hovering over top of her, her breathing becoming shallow.

“I’ll talk to father about the bloody peacock. I won’t let him terrorize you.” He leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses from her ear to her collar bone. “Now, I think we have better things to do than talk about a bird that has been dead for over seven years, don’t you?” 

Just as Draco slipped a hand up her skirt, fingers teasing the edge of her knickers, they heard a hissing. He jerked away from her quickly, both of them looking around. The large portrait of the Scottish Highlands that hung above their bed was full of a white peacock, spitting and hissing.

 _“Bombarda,”_ Hermione hissed and in a display of wandless magic, the painting burst off the wall, taking the bird with it.


	18. Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Proud  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [NotAMuggleMiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAMuggleMiss/profile)

“This is an outrage! I will not be mocked!” Lucius shouted as he stormed into the Conservatory. He marched past the seating area where Hermione and Draco were having tea without another word and slammed the door behind him on his way back into the Manor.

Hermione looked over at Draco and raised an eyebrow.

“What do you suppose all that was about?” she asked before taking a bite out of her crumpet and chewing thoughtfully.

“I have no idea, but I think we’re about to find out,” Draco replied, gesturing to the door where his mother and Harry were making their way inside from the garden. 

The first thing she noticed when she glanced over at them was that Narcissa was laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her cheeks. Slightly alarmed, she stood up and made her way over to her Mother-in-law to offer her an arm.

“Are you quite alright? Can I get you something?” she asked the older woman, bewildered.

Narcissa looked over at Harry, which did nothing but renew her fit of giggles. His answering snigger did little to set Hermione at ease. She led the woman over to a chair and set to work making her tea. Narcissa took a deep breath and calmed somewhat.

“Everything is just fine, darling,” she soothed. “Circe, I haven’t laughed like that in years.”

“Would you care to share what exactly is so funny, Mother dearest?” Draco asked.

His mother turned to Harry again and quickly pressed her lips into a straight line, her shoulders shaking slightly. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth in a misguided attempt to contain his own laughter.

“Has the whole world gone mad!” Hermione exclaimed, turning to her husband. He, rather unhelpfully, shrugged at her in response.

“I can do this,” Harry muttered, taking a slow breath. “Do you know why I’ve been visiting every Saturday for the past few weeks?”

Hermione shook her head just as Draco nodded. She looked over at him questioningly.

“Potter has been helping my parents learn to cast a spell that has eluded them until now,” Draco told her softly. “Father wouldn’t hear of asking for your help, instead. He was embarrassed.”

“He should know better than to worry I would judge him. He certainly has changed quite a lot in the past decade,” she replied. “Has he not been successful, then?”

“The good news-” Harry answered quickly, “-is that he finally managed to cast a corporeal Patronus for the first time, just moments ago.”

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione declared. “But why in Merlin’s name was he so angry when he came in? And what is so funny?”

“It is generally accepted that a Patronus is a good representation of your inner self, is it not?” Narcissa inquired with a mischievous smile.

“That is what the current research suggests, yes,” she answered haltingly.

Harry grinned at her.

“His Patronus is a peacock!” he rushed out, setting them all laughing again.

Hermione couldn’t help but join in.


	19. Spies of a Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Spies of a Feather  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Articcat621/pseuds/Articcat621)

“Come on, Lyra, why are you procrastinating?” Hermione asked her youngest child. “I know you can put your shoes on faster than this.”

“I don’t want to go,” Lyra admitted quietly, looking up at her mother. “I hate having tea in the garden.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, sitting down and helping Lyra put on her shoes.

“Because of the peacocks!” she cried out.

Hermione startled. “The peacocks?” She smiled. “They’re harmless. Grandma Cissy wouldn’t have them around you and Scorpius if they weren’t safe.”

“They scare me,” she repeated, a pout on her face.

“Come on, you’ll be fine,” Hermione said, taking Lyra’s hand and pulling her towards the Floo, where Draco and Scorpius were waiting.

“Ready, little one?” Draco asked, scooping the fire-year-old into his arms.

“Yes, daddy,” she said quietly, putting on a brave face.

* * *

“Walk with me in the gardens, Lyra?” Narcissa asked, looking at her grand-daughter. They had just finished up tea.

Lyra looked at her mother in panic.

“Go on,” Hermione said, shooing Lyra.

Both Draco and Lucius were smirking, and Scorpius stuck his tongue out at his sister, earning himself a scowl from his father.

“Okay,” Lyra said, following her grandmother into the gardens.

“So, I hear you’re afraid of my peacocks?” Narcissa asked after a few minutes of walking. When they rounded the bend in the garden, they came to a clearing where a few peacocks where grazing.

“A little,” Lyra admitted, looking at her grandmother. She scooted a little closer to her, looking at the peacocks with distrust.

“How come?” Narcissa asked.

“The eyeballs on their feathers,” Lyra whispered, grabbing onto Narcissa’s robes.

“Let me tell you a secret, little one,” Narcissa said, sitting on a bench and pulling Lyra into her arms. “Everyone thinks the peacocks are Grandpa’s, but they’re actually mine.”

“Really?”

“Mhmmm, and you know why there are so many eyes on their feathers?” Narcissa asked. When Lyra shook her head, she smiled. “It’s because Grandpa Lucius is always up to no good, so my peacocks keep their eyes on him,” she teased.

“Oh,” Lyra said, nodding. “It’s to spy on Grandpa?”

“Mhmmmm,” Narcissa said. “It’s why they roam the grounds. They keep an eye on him.”

“That’s not scary, then,” Lyra said. “Scorpius is always being bad,” she said, looking at Narcissa. “We might need some peacocks at home, too.”

Narcissa laughed. “Come on, little one, let’s head back.”

When they rejoined the rest of the family, Lyra smiled. “Mum, I’m not scared any more. The peacocks are Grandma’s helpers.”

“Oh, good,” Hermione said.

“Mhmm, I didn’t realise that Grandpa was so bad!” she exclaimed, causing both Draco and Hermione to burst out laughing, while Lucius simply scowled.

“Come now, Father, you must know that mother always has her _eyes_ on you,” Draco teased.

“We need peacocks to watch Scorpius,” Lyra added. “So that way he doesn’t touch my toys.”

“I do not,” Scorpius grumbled, scowling at his younger sister.

“We’re not getting peacocks,” Draco said with finality.


	20. Tea for Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Tea for Three  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [RoseHarperMaxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHarperMaxwell/pseuds/RoseHarperMaxwell)

2ND PLACE  


Hermione considers herself good at reading people, but gauging romantic interest is her blind spot.

Sure, when they meet friends for drinks, he always sits next to her. Yes, the press of his thigh against hers sends pleasant heat elsewhere.

Of course, they study together. For hours on end in companionable near-silence, taking turns choosing takeaway. Okay, he knows how she takes her tea, and he reminded Harry last week that she doesn't like coriander.

But they share friends, and they're both in Healer training. When he asks her - and _only_ her - to tea at the Manor, it's the first time she's reasonably confident it's more than convenience and proximity. There might be actual _reciprocated interest._

Hermione is beyond interested. She’s thirsty. Tea with Draco sounds delicious.

So it’s hard to believe anything could pull her attention from him, and yet here it is. "This is going to sound odd, but I think that peacock is staring at us."

Draco looks over his shoulder. "Christ." He heaves a great sigh and scrubs a palm down his face. "That's...my father."

Hermione tilts her head. The peacock, perched proudly on a pillar, gives a decidedly Malfoyesque lift of his beak. "That's Lucius." 

It's not a question, but Draco nods grimly anyway.

"I wasn't aware of your father's animagus registration."

Draco focuses resolutely on his teacup, which he's rotating in the saucer.

"He's _unregistered?_ He's on probation," she hisses, as if anyone can overhear. "What if he’s up to something?

"He's a massive white peacock, Hermione. He can barely fly. I’m not worried he’s masterminding world domination. Besides," Draco glares at the bird. "He's hardly subtle."

"It takes extraordinary effort. Why’d he pursue it?"

Draco shrugs. "He's bored. He comes out here to have a sulk. Reassure himself Mother's not having secret trysts amongst the roses." Another long-suffering sigh. "Sometimes I think he's spying on me."

Hermione laughs. "You're an adult."

He quirks a brow at her. "Who still lives at home with his parents. For now, anyway - until training's finished." Another embarrassed glance at peacock-Lucius, and he hangs his head. "Maybe not that long."

Flushed and flustered Draco Malfoy simply has no business being this attractive. His hair is falling over his brow, and she's been aching to touch it for weeks. Longer, if she's honest. Impulsively, she leans in, kissing him softly. 

She meant to be quick, just to see his reaction. But when he makes a sinfully surprised sound and his fingers catch her own hair, her lips part and she lingers. Ruffling Lucius's feathers is a decent cover if Draco has second thoughts.

She pulls away, enjoying a few moments of his adorably dazed smile before it slips. He clears his throat. "Was that for my benefit, then? Or his?"

Hermione finally registers the screams - Merlin, there is no other word - of an indignant peacock. She lifts one shoulder and then takes Draco’s hand, missing the showy display completely. "Two birds, one stone."


	21. The Lovelorn Tale of Argus Pavo Snowflake Granger-Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Lovelorn Tale of Argus Pavo Snowflake Granger-Malfoy  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [granger_danger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/granger_danger/pseuds/granger_danger)

NIK’S POST-PETAL PICK  


“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a tradition, Hermione—” As her brow arches, Draco immediately sees his error.

“If I’m skeptical of your family traditions, kindly remember that they include blood supremacy.” She scoffs. “Besides, keeping peacocks on an estate is an ostentatious _status symbol_ dating back to Roman occupation, so no thank you.”

“Our tiny garden is hardly an estate—”

“That’s not an argument in your favor, you realize—”

Draco changes tack. “It’ll teach Scorpius responsibility—”

“He isn’t even _born_ yet.” Hermione rolls her eyes, clasping her prodigious belly. “It’s a terrible time for new pets—”

“Just look—” Draco fumbles in his pocket.

“You know how peacocks _wail._ A squalling baby will be quite enough—”

He spreads the enchanted photos out before her. Stepping close, he rubs slow circles into the sore part of her back.

“Not fair.” She leans into him with a contented sigh. “Now I’ll form a… mmmph… positive association.”

In one photograph, a slightly scruffy peachick ruffles its yellowish-white down.

“Oh,” Hermione says softly, her pregnancy hormones apparently working to Draco’s advantage. _“Oh.”_ She dabs the corner of her eye. “Its feathers are just like _your hair.”_ Her voice is reverent as she strokes the fluff at the base of his neck.

“They are _not,”_ he huffs.

“Well…” She shoots him a sly smile. “Maybe just _one.”_

**_Five Years Later_ **

“Absolutely not.”

“He’s still not housebroken—” Draco scowls at the alabaster peacock strutting through the dining room with his plumage on full display.

“The diapers are working out splendidly—”

He wrinkles his nose. “We haven’t the room, darling.”

Hermione regards him rather as though he is a carton of spoiled milk. “I can’t believe you’d evict Argus Pavo Granger-Malfoy.”

“Snowflake!” Scorpius corrects, sliding into the room on his socks.

“Argus Pavo Snowflake Granger-Malfoy,” Hermione agrees, petting Scorpius’s head as he clings briefly to her leg before dismounting and scampering off again.

Argus issues a mournful, keening cry, reminiscent of a Brontë novel: wounded moans sounding across the moors.

Draco rubs his throbbing temple. “There’s plenty of space at the Manor.”

From Hermione, a dark look. “Entrust him to _Lucius?_ I think not. Argus is part of our family, Draco. He _stays.”_

Argus takes several prancing steps onto the kitchen tile. Fanning out his train of feathers, he fixes his beady, devoted gaze on Hermione.

Draco glares. “Must he always endeavor to _mate_ with you, though?”

Hermione steps into him with a laugh. “Ten years of marriage…” She plants a soft kiss on his collarbone. “And you’re threatened by a _bird?”_

“It’s simply irritating that he believes you’re married to _him.”_ He presses her back against the countertop, raking his teeth gently over her pulse point.

Argus lets loose a baleful lament.

Hermione’s eyes are bright with amused, exasperated love lights. “You’re lucky I cherish you, because you’re absurd.”

Cupping her arse, Draco kisses his way up to her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

She threads her arms around his neck with a smoldering grin. “Absolutely not.”


	22. The Peacock Methodology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Peacock Methodology  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Frumpologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumpologist/pseuds/frumpologist)

5TH PLACE  


Draco wore his fanciest onyx and silver-stitched dress robes accented with expensive cufflinks. He meticulously arranged his platinum hair—parted to the left, fringe barely ghosting his perfectly shaped eyebrow. Donning an emerald signet ring with a silver dragon curling over the gem, he tightened his tie. His polished dragonhide boots clicked against the hardwood floor.

Even the enchanted mirror wolf-whistled as he strutted purposefully from his bedchamber towards the Floo.

The Ministry bustled with harried workers sprinting to their offices, but Draco couldn’t rush it. Couldn’t afford for it to go wrong. He took slow steps, eyes fixed on the lift and his mind focused on reaching the Department for Magical Creatures. It had taken him months to work up the courage; he’d savour every hint of surprise in her eyes, every subtle hitch of her breath.

Upon exiting the lift, he made a sharp right and then left before stepping through a set of double doors.

She sat with a rigid posture, unruly hair hanging over her shoulders as she pressed her nose against a long bit of parchment.

All the air left his lungs in one painful swoosh.

Fiddling with his cufflinks and straightening his silver tie, Draco approached her and placed a carefully crafted smirk on his lips. He cleared his throat and waited as she jumped and twisted to meet his eyes.

“Malfoy!” Her smile sent a zing up his spine. “What are you doing here?” Hermione lifted a single brow as her eyes flitted over his appearance, exactly as he’d hoped. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Draco puffed out his chest, sucked in his stomach, and squared his shoulders, smirk firmly in place. “Hermione, I’d like to court you.”

Her plump bottom lip fell free of its toothy confine. Then she did the one thing Draco hadn’t predicted in all his precise planning: she laughed. “I’m sorry, you’d like to _what_?”

Draco narrowed his eyes, his stomach clenching. Every article he’d read in _Wizard’s Health_ said witches couldn’t resist a direct, sharp-dressed, and handsome man. He should have known better than to take advice from that ridiculous article, ‘ _Woo Your Witch: The Peacock Methodology_ ’.

What a load of bollocks. 

What had he been thinking, except that simply asking Granger to a nice meal was so plebeian, it was practically Weasley-esque. Evidently, peacocking didn’t work as a basis for effective wooing either. 

Too much time had passed, so Draco did the only thing he could manage: he turned on his expensive dragonhide heels and stalked through the door towards the lift.

Just as his finger pressed the button for the atrium, a flushed face surrounded by bushy, chaotic curls sprinted around the corner. He pushed the button six times, begging for the doors to slam shut. They didn’t. Instead, she crowded his space, grinning at him.

“Going down?” he croaked, absolutely disarmed by her sparkling eyes.

She smirked. “If you play your cards right, Malfoy.”

Draco vowed to send _Wizard’s Health_ a massive gift basket.


	23. The Wingman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Wingman  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [HollyBrianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyBrianne/pseuds/HollyBrianne)

"Jealous, mate?" Theo yelled over the booming music.

Draco, who was sitting with him at a booth in the back of the club, averted his eyes and took a casual sip of firewhisky. "Jealous of whom?"

"The bloke chatting up your favourite Gryffindor." Theo pointed across the hazy dance floor. Through a part in the crowd, they had a perfect view of the bar where Hermione Granger was mid-conversation with an unidentified wizard.

"Hardly," Draco scoffed. "Poor git's about to get rejected."

"What makes you think that?"

"Look at him, in that fancy shirt with those flashy buttons! He’s _peacocking_ , showing off his metaphorical feathers to impress her," Draco ranted. "She won't fall for it."

Theo smirked. "Because if she were susceptible to seduction by wardrobe she'd already be yours?"

" _Because,_ " Draco said, self-consciously smoothing his shirt's silk cuff, "one doesn't simply seduce a witch like Granger."

"Right. She must be _wooed_. Alright, let’s review the wooing process. One,” Theo held up his index finger, “take a position at the Ministry so you can see her every day? Check. Two,” -another finger- “ingratiate yourself with her friends by joining their pickup Quidditch games? Check. Three,” -another finger- “declare your intentions and snog her senseless?” Theo squinted and trailed off meaningfully.

Draco flipped a finger of his own back at him.

“Come on, Draco," Theo groaned. "Ask her to dance.”

“I'm not going to ask Granger to dance.”

Theo finished his drink and slammed the glass back down on the table. "Fine, let's just say hello." He didn’t wait for an answer, dragging Draco to the bar by his elbow.

“This is a great song," Theo said in place of a greeting. He wedged himself between Hermione and the mystery man, effectively blocking the latter out of the conversation. "Do you like to dance, Hermione?"

Her gaze flitted back and forth between the newcomers. "Yes?" She said it like a question, confused.

"Excellent." Theo grabbed her hand and did an exaggerated double-take at her watch. "Would you look at the time? Apologies, I have to go… feed my cat.

"You don't have a cat," Draco growled from behind clenched teeth.

"I mean, I have to buy a cat."

"The shops are closed," Hermione said with a laugh. She was catching on. If there weren’t anti-Apparition wards inside the club, Theo was sure that Draco would’ve been long gone already.

"I'll have to search the alley for a stray, then, won't I? Draco can take over." Theo placed Hermione's hand in Draco's and strutted away before either could object. When he reached the door, he turned to watch the couple. Draco's lips moved, Hermione nodded in return, and the two stepped onto the dance floor. They swayed, out of time with the music, but in sync with each other.

Theo smiled proudly until a witch passed in front of him. She sashayed out the door into the alley, taking his attention with her, then winked over her shoulder.

_Here, kitty kitty._


	24. Three Years of Sundays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Three Years of Sundays  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [persephone_stone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_stone/pseuds/persephone_stone)

“Come along Granger, stop dragging your feet.”

Hermione scowled good-naturedly up at Draco, but lengthened her stride. His arm came around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as they walked. 

Today was Sunday; a day reserved just for them. They had spent three years of Sundays this way: exploring museums, dining at muggle restaurants, tending to the life—and love—they had carefully built in the time since Dark Wizards, horcruxes, and killing curses had shattered their adolescence. 

Today they went to one of Hermione’s favorite spots: The National Gallery. They wandered the parqueted halls, admiring the masterpieces of Michelangelo and Monet. Hermione was so engrossed that it took a moment for her to notice Draco hanging back, staring into space.

She laid a hand against the broad expanse of his back. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” he murmured, taking her hand. “Just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I know. You tossed and turned for hours.” She peered up at him, noticing the strain on his handsome face. “Would you like to go home? We could have a lazy day in bed.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Tempting, Granger. But not before we see the Dutch masters you love so much.” 

Yet even Rembrandt and Van Gogh couldn’t hold Draco’s attention, so absorbed was he in his thoughts. 

In a room off the main hall he finally stopped, eyes fixed on the nearest painting. Four figures—in various states of distress and dishevelment—gathered around a large white cow. 

“What the _hell_ is this?” he asked.

Hermione came up beside him. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I know this myth.”

He arched a brow at her, temporarily distracted from his strange mood.

“Zeus—that arsehole there,” she pointed, “took Io as a lover. The cow,” she added, laughing as Draco blanched. “He turned her into a cow _afterwards._ So Hera wouldn’t know.”

“Problematic on many levels, but continue.”

“Hera sent Argus, a giant with 100 eyes, to watch Io. Long story short: Zeus had Argus killed. To honor him, Hera placed his eyes on the tail of her sacred animal: the peacock.” She gestured at the goddess’s chariot, drawn by two of the magnificent birds.

Draco snorted. “Bloody menaces, peacocks.”

She nodded. “How can such beautiful birds make such terrible noises?”

A short while later, they exited the gallery, heading out to Trafalgar Square. Between the enormous fountains Draco stopped suddenly, turning to face her. His expression was anxious, but earnest. 

“Granger, look. I’ve been trying to find the perfect time to do this, but I really can’t wait a moment longer.” 

He took her hands in his, and she felt him tremble. 

Slowly, he dropped to one knee, eyes bright with unshed tears. 

Her heart rate tripled. 

“Hermione, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. Will you allow me the very great honor of being your husband?”

The noises Hermione made as she accepted—throwing herself into his arms, laughing and shrieking and crying—surely rivaled those of any peacock.


	25. Uncultured Swine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Uncultured Swine  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 396  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Tridogmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridogmom/pseuds/Tridogmom)

"What about Pavo?" Lucius suggested. "Constellation name for the Black tradition and peacocks for the Malfoy family."

Hermione huffed and Draco knew she was about to rip into his father. Glancing at his mother, they shared a smirk before both picked up their tea to sip on. If Hermione wanted to have a go at Lucius, neither one of them were going to stop her.

"One," Hermione began, "I'm not going to name my child after one of your noisy, smelly, _foul_ , creatures. And two, Pavo doesn't always mean peacock."

"Yes, it does. I swear Muggles don't even educate their children in the old languages."

"Maybe in Latin it means peacock, but in Catalan it means turkey. I'm not naming my child Turkey."

"What is Catalan?"

"The language of Catalonia."

"Never heard of it. Is it one of those gross countries full of poor people?" Lucius asked, his nose in the air.

Draco heard Narcissa's quiet intake of breath. He and Hermione had been together for five years, married for three, and still, Lucius underestimated her wrath when she was angry. And Hermione's patience with his father seemed to shrink as her pregnant belly grew.

"It's where my family is from in Spain, you uncultured swine," Hermione spat at him. "I didn't realise places like Barcelona were _gross_. You didn't seem to think so when you were checking out the men at the nude beach. Or did you think we didn't notice?"

"I– I was just admiring their swimwear," Lucius sputtered.

"They were naked, you pompous wanker!"

"Hermione dear," Narcissa cut in. "You and Draco can name your child whatever you wish. I'm sure the Grangers have traditions too."

"We do. Normally the firstborn son is named after the paternal grandfather," Hermione told her.

"That's a nice tradition. Don't you think Lucius?"

"Ye—"

Hermione cut him off. "I'd rather name my child Turkey than name him Arsemunger after his grandfather."

Tea sprayed from Draco's nose as his father's mouth fell open at her insult. From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother hiding her smile behind her napkin. Deciding it was time to save his old man from her fury, Draco ran his hand down Hermione's back, calming her.

"Father, this child is ours and we will find a suitable name for him. If you'll excuse us, I wish to take my wife home."


	26. Win Or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Win Or Die  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Torigingerfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torigingerfox/pseuds/Torigingerfox)

Hermione felt a sharp pain at her side, but she couldn’t stop. Their lives depended on it.

“Granger!”

Draco was trying to keep up with her. “Slow down! No one’s chasing us.”

“No one’s chasing us _now_ ,” she pointed out. 

They turned a corner, wands out and ready to cast. “We need to find Dean and Luna, or we’ll never make it.”

Draco sighed, his eyes darting left to right. “Hermione, if you want to save Potter, we must get him now.”

“Have you _heard_ Luna’s Patronus? A giant is guarding the location where he’s kept!”

“You sure Lovegood wasn’t on a bad trip?”

“Don’t be mean.”

“She nearly got Theo killed last time. Also, a one-hundred eyed giant? Really?”

“Yeah, like Argus in the myth--”

“I know,” he interrupted her. “Let’s just go get Potter.”

Hermione nodded, and they proceeded down the corridor and into the room.

Luckily, there were no giants in sight. Hermione could spot Harry at the other end of the room. He was bound but unscathed, and she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Hermione noticed a heap of robes at his feet. One of their friends had fallen while trying to rescue Harry. “Who--”

Draco didn’t let her finish or take a step forward. He dragged her back and into his arms, and kissed her as their lives depended on it. As if that was their last kiss.

“I love you, Granger.”

“OH, COME ON! GET A ROOM YOU TWO”

The heap on the floor had just talked.

* * *

The lights went back on, and Harry unbounded himself. “Ron, will you ever manage to finish a game without spoiling everything?”

Ron got up from the floor. “This WARP thing is stupid. Why do I always end up dead?”

Draco smirked. “Because you’re dumb, Weasley. And it’s L.A.R.P.”

Ron opened his mouth to retaliate but was interrupted by Luna, Dean, Theo, Neville, Ginny, and Pansy entering the room. 

Draco was still holding Hermione, not wanting to let go of his girlfriend just because of the audience.

Theo looked at them “He ruined it again, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” they both replied.

Theo shook his head. “Sorry we’re late. We were held up,” he said, pointing at Pansy struggling in a ridiculous dress. 

Draco did a double-take. “What’s that monstrosity?”

Pansy huffed. “Dean told me this was like that Cluedo game we played last Christmas. This month’s theme was Peacock, so…” she opened her hands, showing her outfit.

“...you dressed up as Mrs. Peacock,” Hermione finished for her.

“See? She gets it, _Draco_.”

Ginny interrupted them before they could start fighting. “Enough. Since my idiot brother got himself killed _again_ , this month’s game goes to Hermione’s team. Next month the theme’s the Dog!”

“Don’t dress like one, Pansy,” said Theo winning himself an incinerating look. 

“ _Fine_ , I’ll behave. But I am changing team,” he continued. “I’ll risk witnessing Draco not being able to keep his hands off Hermione if it means I’m winning for once.”

**Author's Note:**

> [VOTE HERE](https://forms.gle/f4my2sxwnK6HbYLw5)


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